


Try Not to Save Me

by CannibalKats



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demons, F/M, Gen, Ghost Hunters, M/M, Multi, Occult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-01-27 06:38:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12575916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalKats/pseuds/CannibalKats
Summary: Two years ago during a completely average lockdownsomethinghad happened that set their little ghost hunting team into a terrible spiral.  Their leader runs off, her fiance is blinded.Now they find themselves much bigger and experiencing some dejavu, with the help of a medium the team may find that more than ghosts are at the bottom of their friend's misfortunes.





	1. Chapter 1

“Please get off this channel, we’re live, no one wants to hear this.”

“I beg to differ,” there’s a chuckle and then a combination of whines and groans, “it’s a hotly debated topic on the internet, which is exactly _where_ we happen to be live.”

“It does seem to be an inappropriate topic,” a woman’s voice chimes in, “should we have to impose a rating on our stream-”

“We hunt ghosts,” the second man snorts, “murder victims and stuff I think the family viewing ship has sailed.”

“You’re making Jaehee uncomfortable,” the first man complains, “she’s just too polite to say so.”

“Thank you, Zen,” Jaehee says.

“See.” His voice is smug.

“However I was not uncomfortable, it’s an interesting topic regardless of appropriateness.”

“I’d really rather not know if my assistant would sleep with a ghost,” another man says with a yawn.

“Well _I’d_ fuck a ghost,” the second man chirps.

“Yeah Seven, we got that,” Zen groans.

“Yoosung would too,” Seven proclaims cheerfully.

“I-I uh, I don’t know if I’d say that,” Yoosung stammers.

“You’d take it on a nice date first,” Seven assures him.

“I mean-”

“You’d probably convince it to move on before you got to get down with that spirit booty,” Seven cackles.

“We’re not going to _get down_ with anything,” the last man says, a small chuckle hidden in his deep voice, “if you idiots don’t quiet down.”

“There’s literally nothing on any of our cameras, Jumin. None of the sensors have anything, Zen has run 4 EVP sessions with not even a fucking mumble.  The lead has died. Pun intended.” Seven complains.

“In that case, I think for curiosities sake, should the opportunity arise I think I would _rise_ to the occasion,” Jumin says flatly. “Pun also intended.”

There’s a collective groan.

“Alright Trustfund kid is down to fuck a ghost, and by virtue of interest I’ve concluded that Jaehee would get dirty with the spirit realm, and Yoosung is here to disappoint an ethereal being, so where do _you_ stand?”

“ _Me_?” Zen almost squawks. “I’m not going to answer that.”

“It’s simple,” Seven laughs, “live in front of all 15 of our regular viewers would _you_ , Hyun Ryu, make sweet sweet love, to a denizen of the undead.”

“ _No_ ,” Zen says firmly, “I’m not, that’s- You all have problems!  I can, I can find a _living_ person, _easily_ why would I want to,” he groans and Seven can see him roll his eyes on Jaehee’s camera. “ _God_.”

Seven chuckles.

“Uh, Seven,” Yoosung’s voice is high and Seven sits up from where he was slouched and board in his chair at brain camp. “Do you uh, do you see anything near me?”

Yoosung pans his camera in an area of the abandoned building they’ve been locked in and Seven scans their static cameras.

“Sorry little buddy we don’t have eyes over there, you’re gonna have to take a walk,” he smiles, leaning on his elbows.

“Aw _really_ , Me?” Yoosung squeaks.

Seven watches the other two camera’s pan towards him.

“You know the rules,” Jumin says dryly.

“He who smelt it dealt it,” Seven finishes.

“That’s not how it goes,” Jaehee groans.

“Oh oh, the tripter tag is going nuts Yoosung, what did you see?” Seven asks, he doesn’t mask his excitement.

“W-why,” Seven watches Yoosung’s handheld get unsteady, “what d-did _they_ see?”

“Oh no they’re debating banging ghosts, and if Zen is lying.”

“Oh,” Yoosung’s voice is soft and quiet as he starts to step towards the part of the room he’d indicated with his camera.

“I’m not lying,” Zen says firmly. “I think it’s weird.”

Seven smirks, he turns to the static camera at his back and rolls his eyes. Then he watches the feeds, “Zen, did you take a thermal with you?”

“Yeah, do you see something?”

“Nope, just helping out our little dude you know.”

“G-god could you two stop?” Yoosung whines.

“What’s the matter Yoosungie?  See a ghost?”

Jaehee groans and adds, “I have the kinect if you think I should use it.”

“Might as well, we’ve found nothing so far,” Jumin chimes in.

“Hey guys,” Seven chirps looking directly into the camera, “glad you could tune in to our new show, we’re thinking of calling it _Idiots get lost in the dark_.”

“Please,” Zen says, charm oozing from his voice, “don’t listen to him, but if you’d like to suggest to us somewhere that is actually haunted and not just historically interesting to a nerd with too much money, please we’re always interested.”

“Tript all recommended locations with the hashtag _ghost fuckers_.” Seven nods.

“Do not,” Jumin grumbles, “use _that_ hastag.”

There’s a squeal and a crash and Yoosung’s camera is sprawled out on the floor, Seven can see him pushing himself to standing.

“Hey Superman, you ok?” Seven asks, genuine concern in his voice.

“Y-yeah,” Yoosung groans gathering his camera, “I just tripped.”

“You sure?” Zen asks and Seven watches the feed for the thermal camera.  There’s a clear cold spot forming just a few feet from Yoosung.  A few cold foot prints cross in front of him.

“I didn’t feel like I got pushed this time,” Yoosung insists.

“Ms. Kang,” Jumin says and Seven can hear the tall man coming up behind him to watch the monitors, “could you please point your Kinect to the left of Mr. Kim.”

“In the same direction as Zen’s camera Mr. Han?”

“Precisely,” Jumin nods, leaning over Seven’s shoulder to watch the feed.

“Hey Yoosung, come take this,” Zen calls.  Yoosung’s sets his hand held on a low wall pointed at the three of them and takes the thermal camera from Zen without a word.

“I’m only seeing a partial mapping,” Jaehee announces.

“The cold spot doesn’t really have any kind of shape,” Yoosung shrugs.

“EVP or spirit box?” Zen asks.

“Spirit box,” Jumin says. “Give it some time, if you can’t make contact we can try EVP and check it when you get back to brain camp”

Seven switches audio channels and Jumin puts a hand on his shoulder, “Jaehee can you switch on the recorder in your pocket while he does the spirit box, we’ll check it when you get back to brain camp.”

There’s a slight twitch to her camera that indicates she’s doing what he’s asked.

“Do you think this will be like the asylum last year,” Jumin asks quietly after muting his mic.

Seven shrugs.  He’s not sure what he’s expecting if he’s honest, but something has been pulling at the edges of his mind since the groundskeeper had locked them in that evening.  

There should be activity here, for one.  He and Yoosung had scouted this place when Jumin had brought it up months ago and came back with class A EVPs.  Sometimes ghosts were camera shy but this was off. Mostly he felt like he was being watched.  

He’d set a few recorders of his own around brain camp, and a REM pod in the room next to them.  Sometimes when they’d scouted locations a spirit would form an attachment but usually they found Yoosung more interesting than him.  Usually there was evidence at home between the scout and when they did their lockdown.

The spirit box cycles through it’s static for an entire minute before they hear something jumbled. “I got it we can check it later,” Seven says before Zen can ask if anyone heard.

“Spirit,” Zen coos, “we hear you trying to speak please try again.”

“Perhaps you should ask the spirit to enunciate,” Jumin suggests, and it’s so dry Seven can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“Fuck off,” Zen spits.

Another series of sounds interrupts the static.  It’s not discernible as words but things are starting to click for the redhead at brain camp.  He knew he recognized this feeling and it had nothing to do with the asylum last year.  

He glances at Jumin, staring intently at the monitor as the cold spot grows and more partial mapping appears on the kinect feed. None of them save Yoosung were there that night, and Yoosung had not been in brain camp with him, had not seeing what he had.

This isn’t it but it’s close.

Jumin is engrossed, Seven reaches for his can of PhD Pepper and flicks the live feed off with his pinky while no one will notice.  He’ll cut it later when they post their diaries and debunk anything they can.  The audience loved it when the feed died, he’d milked that for views plenty in the early days.

Before Jaehee had joined, before Jumin came on site, before Zen was the host.  He hopes none of their viewers are making the connections he’s making, he hopes those threads are more frayed than they appear to him.

He’s already unplugged his headset from the sound feed, he knows what’s coming, he knows it will be everywhere.  He’s dropping his earpiece on the desk in front of him as he watches Jumin reach franticly to dig his own out of his ear, watches the handheld and chest cams go wonky as their wielders struggle with the invasive sound.  

As the indicator light for every REM pod in the building goes off in turn, the high keening whine not even audible over the sound.  The sound of screams, and wails.  The sound of too many people to count calling out in pain.  

It doesn’t last long but it feels like a lifetime before it dies away and all that’s left is the whine of the rem pod in the room behind him.  He watches the screens go blank slowly one by one, he watches every battery indicator in his line of sight drain and sinks down into the stupid old chair.  He ignores Jumin moving like a bat out of hell to try to do something to stop it.

It’s futile, he knows it’s futile.  This wasn’t as severe as 2 years ago, not as strong and Seven doesn’t have a doubt in his mind that the finale will be lackluster in comparison.

“Dammit Luciel, why are you still sitting there,” Jumin curses, his usual composure gone.

“What do you want me to do?” He forces himself to throw up his hands and smirk, hopes in the dim glow of the blank screens he’s not pale.

“Something,” Jumin growls.

“There is nothing _to_ do money bags,” Seven shrugs pushing himself out of his chair, the REM pod in the room next to them continues to whine, a high pitched staccato and he can see that all of the recorders he’d set are still on. Whatever this was had something to say. “Gimme a hand, Cat Mom.

Seven leans forward and grabs onto the monitors on the desk in front of him and Jumin Han gives him a quizzical look before reaching out to the ones he’d missed. “Are you ex-”

There a woosh, like when an airplane begins take off, and a sucking feeling.  Seven’s gross old chair slides back three feet and the table lifts a few inches before slamming back into the floor.  Seven stays still for a moment, waits, but nothing else happens.

He turns towards the door.  Not the one to the room with the REM pod but the one to the hall.

“You knew that would happen?” Jumin asks loosening his tie.

Seven shrugs, “They were on the third floor near the common room right?”

“I’m not certain,” Jumin says and Seven knows he’s lying.

“Fuck off man I need to make sure Yoosung’s alright, start packing this shit up.”

“Third floor, east corridor near the cafeteria,” Jumin shrugs as if he’s only just remembered.

“Get my four recorders and the REM pod from the back room.  Make sure Zen helps I’m going to take Yoosung home before I check out what we’ve got.”

“This _was_ familiar?”

“I don’t know,” he stops at the stairs, “but it’s close enough.”

He takes the stairs two at a time.  They’d been so small back then, younger and dumber and with way less ambition.  Just a bunch of asshole kids out to fuck around with ghosts.  She’d been the one to keep them together.  With her stupid go pro cameras and her tarot cards, and being a medium.  He’d make the gadgets from blueprints he found on the internet and he’d watch as the three of them split up.  

There had been something off that night too, something watching, and waiting.  V had found her just as the screaming started but Yoosung had been alone, and then the whole building had lifted by it’s foundation and slammed back down.  

Things had been wrong, _she’d_ been wrong and V’d been hurt. It wasn’t long after that she’d disappeared, not long after that V had gone to find her, and then came the call.

He had to find them, had to get Yoosung out of here.

“Hey, it’s fine, it’s ok,” Jaehee is crouched down patting the blond boy on the back, a crank operated flashlight in her hand.  Damn why hadn’t he thought of that.

“I know he scares easy,” Zen chuckles sauntering over to him, “but isn’t this a little ridiculous.”

Seven doesn’t say anything, they don’t know.  That show had never aired, they’d never sat down to review their footage and Yoosung didn’t talk about it.  No one talked about it.  Now they were going to have to.

“Everyone is fine Yoosung,” Seven says quietly.  He kneels next to Jaehee and put his hand on his friend’s elbow. “I’m going to take you to my car and we’re going to go for coffee and Zen is going to help pack up ok?”

“I can’t” Yoosung whispers hoarsely.

“It’s fine little buddy, you don’t have to, you’re ok, everyone’s ok this time.”

“ _This time_ ,” Zen hisses and Seven shoots him a look.

Yoosung let’s Seven pull him to standing and he waves Jaehee off when she tries to hand him the flashlight. “Keep it, there’s debris on the stairs now, don’t want the pretty face to fall down.”

The smaller man leans heavy on him and he adjusts to carry his weight.  He stops as Jaehee and Zen make their way up the stairs and lets his eyes readjust to the low light before continuing on.  He knows there’s an emergency exit at the end of this hall and the fire escape will be rickety but safe.

“You think you can do stairs Yoosungie?”

“Ugh, I h-hate when you call me that,” Yoosung groans.

“Good if you’re mad at me, you’ll forget you’re scared, ok Yoosungie?”

“Th-thanks,” Yoosung mumbles and shifts.  He let’s Seven keep an arm around him to keep him steady but he starts to walk on his own as Seven pushes the heavy door at the end of the hall.  “Are you s-sure it’s ok to leave them?” he stammers through chattering teeth.

“It’s fine, Jumin will make sure we don’t miss anything, but I think you don’t need to be there, they don’t need the nerds for the heavy lifting.”

“I’m n-not a n-nerd,” Yoosung tries.

“Nah, you’re tough,” Seven agrees. “Big tough Yoosungie, always saving my ass right?”

“Y-yeah,” Yoosung nods as they jump the last few broken steps.

Yoosung lets him go once they’ve both regained their balance.  They giggle in unison and move towards where Seven has parked his car, a ridiculously flashy foreign sports car. “Hey,” Seven calls as Yoosung opens the passenger door, “will you be ok alone for like _a minute_?”

“Yeah,” Yoosung nods, folding his arms over the window and watching his best friend pop the trunk.

“Ok, I’m just going to run these charge packs to the van.  I’ll be right back Superman.” Seven winks and disappears into the trunk.

Yoosung drops into the comfortable leather seat and watches Seven disappear towards the front of the building where the Van was parked.  Seven drops another charger pack in Yoosung’s lap when he slides behind the wheel.  He watches Seven plug his own phone in and start the car.

“Is there,” he pauses, “Waffle house?”

Yoosung smiles and shrugs.  He feels better already, just being out of there.  Something had changed since they’d scouted the place.  It happens sometimes, a little thing introduced to a location could change the energy.  He wished he’d recognized it sooner, and by the looks of his friend’s white knuckle grip on the steering wheel he did too.

“We’re going to have to talk about it aren’t we,” Yoosung says softly, pressing his hand to the fog forming on the window.

“We don’t know that,” Seven says firmly. “We need to review the footage, check out the recorders and see if we got any EVP, and it _was_ different.”

“It was the same too,” Yoosung argues. “It-it uh, it just wasn’t as strong this time b-beca-”

“Because she wasn’t there,” Seven nods.  “I thought about that too but I don’t think, I mean it doesn’t make sense that Rika was the difference, we have way more equipment now, more batteries to drain and there are more of us, the potential was there to completely recreate that night.” His shoulders slump and he runs a hand through messy red hair. “This was, it was something different.  It could have been worse, the potential was there for it to be worse,” he’s rambling now, “but it wasn’t it was, I mean comparatively it was, you know weak?”

“What if,” Yoosung starts as Seven pulls his car into the waffle house parking lot.

“No,” Seven says firmly.

“It’s not like-”

“Yoosung we’ve gone down this road.  Even if her spirit _is_ out there somewhere,” he trails off. “She doesn’t want to find us.”

“If V would just-”

“He’s not going to, that’s exactly _why_ he’s not going to,” Seven frowns down at his phone.

“You always take his side.” Yoosung whines.

“I am _always_ on your side Yoosung,” he runs fingers through his hair again, “what we want just isn’t always what we really need.”

Yoosung groans. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that I’m not on V’s side I just don’t think that it would be good for you to keep trying to make contact.”

“But if she’s out there-”

“Like I said, she doesn’t want to find us, or she’s not strong enough yet, either way there is nothing any of us can do to change that.”  Seven unplugs his phone and gets out of the car.

“Why are you _like_ this?” Yoosung says gesturing to the space around him when he gets out of the car.

“Like what?” Seven laughs.

“You park like a, like an a-asshole!”

Seven cackles, “Wow, I’ve found your limit and it’s taking up two spaces.”

Yoosung orders waffles, piled with fruit and whipped cream and drinks, what Seven estimates to be, an entire canister of coffee.  Seven orders the greasiest thing on the menu and some dimestore PhD Pepper substitute while Yoosung scolds him like the literal mountain of whipped cream on his waffles doesn’t cancel out whatever health benefits the fruit might have posed.

Seven watches him come back from his anxiety attack and he wishes they were going home after this.  They’d been roommates since before Seven dropped out of University and while they’d clashed at first, even claimed to hate one another, living together just seemed _right_.  Or habitual at the very least.  He wanted to take his best friend back to their apartment and make him go to bed, pretend he couldn’t hear him crying like he did any time a location made him think of his cousin.

His phone vibrates while he teases Yoosung about flirting with their waitress and he pulls it from his pocket as he snatches Yoosung’s bill out of his hand and moves to where their waitress had pointed to a debit machine.

[Jumin Han]: How are things on your end?  Should we begin reviewing our footage without you or wait?  
[Luciel Choi]: He’s fine now, everyone should go home, Yoosung and I will review the footage and then we’ll talk about the follow up.  
[Jumin Han]: I will send Hyun and Ms. Kang home, I would like to stay.  
[Luciel Choi]: I bet you have business man shit to do tomorrow   
[Luciel Choi]: And you shouldn’t keep Elly waiting or I’ll have to steal her from you.  
[Jumin Han]: You do not need to worry about my other responsibilities and I have Elizabeth III with me, you’ll keep your hands to yourself.

Well that was that, either Jumin was suspicious or he’d had enough time to reflect on what had just happened and he too recognized the similarities.  His mood had been on an upswing but he doesn’t exactly relish the idea of having to go over the footage or piece together EVP with Jumin hovering over his shoulder.  At least with Yoosung he could send him on errands, Jumin would call some staff member if he tried that.

Jumin is standing outside the building where they rent their studio, his jacket is missing, his sleeves are rolled up and he looks uncharacteristically _rumpled_ when the two of them make their way from where they’d parked Seven’s car.

“Really Jumin, go home,” Seven says, “it’s late, or early or whatever.”

“Ms. Kang can handle the office until I get there,” Jumin yawns.

“This could take hours,” Yoosung adds.  

“I am aware,” Jumin frowns.

“Did anyone remember to document the recorder locations when they gathered them up?” Seven asks with a shrug pushing the door to the building open.

“I,” Jumin starts with another yawn, “I am not certain, Hyun gathered the recorders.”

“So no,” Seven chuckles.  

Yoosung groans, “We’re going to have to cross reference with the stream footage, god it’s going to take us all day.”

“Your point has been made,” Jumin growls, “I am going to stay regardless, I will have Ms. Kang reschedule my meetings and I will rest on the couch in the office while the two of you organize this mess.”

“Just go home, Jumin,” Seven begs with a smirk.

“You,” Jumin starts with a finger pointing at Seven but stops to yawn. “You are hiding something.”

“I might be,” Seven nods, “but it might not be anything so go home Jumin.”

“Do you intend to inform us if this is relevant?”

He shrugs, his plan was to sit them all down if this came out the same but he can’t help being aloof when Jumin got like this.  Yoosung was already gathering the equipment and the log books in the hopes that Jaehee had at least kept track of anything she had placed during set up.

“I will rest in the office then, and work from here to keep an eye on this.”

“Fine,” Seven says running his hands through his hair.

When Jumin has gathered his cat and shuffled sleepily out of the room Yoosung shoots Seven a look. “You could have let him stay, we could probably use the help.”

“ _We_ know exactly what we’re looking for, V kept him in the dark.” Seven counters.

“V kept everyone in the dark,” Yoosung frowns.

“So,” Seven drawls, “Do you want to start with the static cameras or the hand helds.”

“Really?”

“We do this like nothing out of the ordinary happened Yoosung, _because we don’t know if it did_.”

The anticipation kills them, it makes everything seem like it’s taking twice as long.  They’re unfocused and distracted both wanting to get through the mundane post lockdown routine and also wanting to avoid what the end might ultimately bring.  

Seven sends Yoosung out for drinks and snacks more than once. The music they listen to while they work becomes such a distraction that Jumin comes in, catches them dancing rather than working and forces them to sit through a 10 minute lecture before turning it off.

Up until Yoosung falls they see very little, there are a few temperature drops recorded, Yoosung hears some indecipherable whispers on the recorders and they’re both very thankful to Jaehee for being more organized than the rest of them put together.

“What about that,” Yoosung pauses the recording from Zen’s camera and replays the last minute when Seven swivels around to listen.

“What’s the time stamp?” He asks flicking through a spiral note pad.

Yoosung checks and they cross reference it with Seven’s notes, “It’s a car,” Seven shrugs.

“Damn,” Yoosung mutters.

Yoosung pulls three more obvious ambient sounds before Seven clues in that they’ve caught up to the main event.

“So you uh, you want to check the footage first?” He asks, wheeling his chair towards his friend so that they crash together.

“Yeah I guess,” Yoosung shrugs.

They cue up the static cameras to the point where Yoosung had tripped and watch each in turn, the closer ones pick up the commotion. They watch, Seven checking the notes he’d scribbled down while they’d been eating.  

“Do you see that,” Yoosung asks, his voice hushed and he grabs his friend by the sleeve.

“Yeah that’s new,” Seven admits.

“No,” Yoosung says, “we didn’t have-”

“We had less static cameras but this wasn’t on them,” Seven corrects him.

“Ok.”

Each camera they check in turn shows the same thing, a _fog_ of sorts, not unusual, they’d captured the phenomena before but not like this.  Seven notes the location and time as the watch the fog pass in front of every single static camera.  

“It’s moving away from us,” Yoosung says curiously.  

They watch the final Static Camera, pointed at the monitors in Brain Camp.  Jumin’s back as he leans forward on the table for a better look, Seven placing his ear piece on the table, and the mass of fog passing behind his chair to the room where he’d set his own REM pod and recorder on a whim.

“Does it, does it _want_ to be seen?” Yoosung asks.

“It’s like it’s trying to distance itself from whatever happened in the Cafeteria,” Seven frowns.

They move on to Yoosung’s hand held sitting on the low wall as he takes the Thermal Camera from Zen. “It’s so dark,” Yoosung frowns, “I don’t remember it being that dark.”

“It,” Seven stops, “No I don’t think it was I think,” he pulls up the feed from the Kinect cam and the thermal and puts them side by side. “Yeah it gets darker as the cold spot gets bigger.”

“It’s like they’re coming out of it,” Yoosung points at the insane number of partially mapped figures centered on the cold spot.

“Or being pulled into it,” Seven mumbles.

“N-no,” Yoosung stammers and it’s not the nervous way he’d stumbled over his words earlier but excitement, he sees something that Seven has missed, “they don’t move like they’re being pulled back look,” Yoosung points to a few different distinct figures, “it’s a portal and they’re trying to get out. Look it’s pulling at the edges, or trying to but there’s nothing to grip or it can’t I-I don’t really know how tangible a portal would be to a spirit but _look_.”

Seven can see exactly what Yoosung is talking about. “Yeah ok I’m seeing that now but why open the portal and what about all the spirits we found when we scouted, we had 3 distinctly different Spirits on our EVPs, where did they go?”

When the screaming starts Seven notes the timestamps, the three of them drop and Seven watches the feed for Yoosung’s handheld.  There’s nothing, no fog, or lights just dark with an extra shot of blackness and the three people in frame drop their cameras and dig at their ears, and the battery dies.

“Ok,” Yoosung says carefully, ignoring the question that neither of them can answer, “so now we’re all queued up with the recorders right?”

“Set them out in the order that the fog appeared.” Seven says.

Neither of them want to point out what they both suspect.  

“Watch me.” Recorder 4

“Wait for me.” Recorder 2

“Left me.” Recorder 1

“Where are you?” Recorder 3

“You left me.” Recorder 7

“Alone.” Recorder 5

“Alone.” Recorder 6

Yoosung can see his friend pale as they play each recorder in turn, his hands gripping at the chair, his jaw clenched.

“I see you Brother.” Recorder 9

Seven shoves his chair away from the desk and leaves the room faster than Yoosung can ever remember seeing his best friend move.

He leaves so quickly he doesn’t hear the last recorder. “Save me, Saeyoung, please, save me, save me, save me, save me,” it repeats in a frantic tone over and over and Yoosung watches the time stamp, as everything else dies and the screaming had started the recorder in the back room starts. It plays through the batteries dying, gets lost in the sound of Seven leaving to find him.  

It starts to blend together and is still going when Jumin comes into the back room and collects the recorder.

Yoosung listens to the recorders in time, it’s broken and jumbled, like the spirit is talking to itself as it makes it’s way to Brain Camp.   _Saeyoung_ , the name rings a bell but Yoosung can’t place it.  Seven had left, he’d left like he was running from something but Yoosung had been engrossed.  

This _was_ different, there were similarities certainly enough that maybe they would have to consider the connection, or at least try to eliminate that possibility.  Had this spirit, this lost thing angry and confused, had it overshot it’s mark that night?  Was this a second attempt to reach them?   _Or_ was it something that had found them because of what had happened.

He can’t help the way his mind drifts to Rika, the way he grasps at the slight possibility this was a message.  Had it been looking for him and gotten lost, spirits confused things all the time, misspoke words while they adjusted to being heard.  He knows it’s unlikely but he can’t help the spiral so he turns the recorders off and pockets the last one before he goes to find his best friend.

He doesn’t have to go far, the office door is never open and there’s the unmistakable smell of vomit wafting out.  Jumin would look unperturbed to anyone who didn’t know him but Yoosung can see the older man is uncomfortable.  Seven is on the hard leather sofa, arms curled around a small metal trash can, forehead pressed to the rim.

His hair is soaked in sweat and Yoosung can’t tell if his best friend’s shoulders are shaking with dry heaves or if he’s crying.  Jumin sits next to him, body language utterly composed if not for the slightly stricken look in his eyes.  No one else has ever seen Seven like this, no one but Yoosung and probably V.

He grabs a bottle of water from the mini fridge next to Jumin’s desk and shrugs when grey eyes meet his.  Jumin tilts his head towards the door and Yoosung shrugs again.  Jumin rests a hand on Seven’s shoulder before he collects his coat and nods. “I think I’ll stop into the office and then go home.”

Yoosung sits on the couch next to his best friend and watches Jumin shut the door to the carrier his beautiful white cat is sleeping in and leave the room.  It seems deliberate and controlled like everything Jumin does but Yoosung thinks there was an urgency to it.  No one liked when Seven had feelings.  No one liked remembering their funny friend was a person too.

“Hey,” Yoosung says softly, resting a hand on his back and rubbing slow circles over his damp shirt.

“Mmph,” Seven grunts and Yoosung can feel him swallow a few times.

“Not done yet?” Yoosung asks.

Seven shrugs.

“You uh, you missed the finale.” He tries.

“D-didn’t need to- _urp_ ,” he swallows, “Didn’t need to hear it.”

“You’ve heard it before then?” Yoosung asks, trying to keep his heart from pounding out of his chest.

“It, uh,” Seven straightens up a bit, he sets the can on the floor and gently pushes it away with his foot, “I know the voice.”

He doesn’t offer any explanation and Yoosung decides not to ask just yet.  He sets the recorder on the little table in front of them and looks at his friend.  Pale, so pale that his freckles looked like dirt on his face, there’s a pink line where he’d pressed his head to the trash can, and he’s not wearing his glasses, a sheen of sweat is starting to bead on his face.

“You should uh,” Yoosung tugs his hoodie over his head, Seven was taller and thinner than he was but it was dry and didn’t smell like barf, and it was the least he could do after Seven had practically carried him to the car this morning. “Here.”

Seven cocks and eyebrow and shrugs before he pulls his tshirt over his head, he wipes his face  on it and balls it up in his lap before he takes the purple hoodie from Yoosung and pulls it over his head. “Is this a crop top?” He laughs weakly, his navel clearly visible when he lifts his arms in the air.

“Shut up,” Yoosung snorts, he hands Seven the water bottle and settles more comfortably on the couch before he starts. “So I was thinking-”

“It was looking for me,” Seven says before he can finish.

“It, what?  Are you sure because I think-”

“Yoosung, you _need_ to let her go.  I’m not going to say that there’s not a chance this isn’t related, I’m pretty- I- that it, _he_ was looking for me, I don’t need to hear the last recorder.”

“Why are you so sure?” Yoosung asks, he tries not to pout, to hide the disappointment.  He knew, really, that it wasn’t her but he’d hoped. “The last recorder, it said a name, Saeyoung.”

Seven’s head snaps to look at Yoosung, his golden eyes are wet and he chews on his lip before he speaks. “Th-that’s _my_ name, my _real_ name.  That voice was my brother.

“Your what?”

“D-don’t ask me a bunch of questions right now,” Seven says his tone weak, defeated.

“I,” Yoosung pauses.  He’s always been aware that there was a lot he didn’t know about his best friend.  He knew that in part Seven didn’t like to _bring down the room_ , but he also knew beneath the jokes and pranks and lopsided grins was a deeply wounded person.  A dead brother made sense. “I’m sorry, I can understand that you d-don’t want to talk about it, but -”

“I don’t want to talk about it because he’s not dead Yoosung,” he snaps. “I-I saw him yesterday, V-V sends me pictures but I saw him yesterday on the corner near our house when I was coming back from the store. He’s not dead.”

“But if we-”

“Yoosung,” Seven says taking him by the shoulders and pressing their foreheads together, “he, is, not, _dead_.”

He let’s Yoosung go and stands, paces for a moment and Yoosung can see the starts of his friends slightly obsessive personality.  The way he got when he had those secret jobs, the way he’d get stuck and pace until he figured it out.

“I have to,” Seven frowns and digs in his pocket and then bends down to dig into Yoosung’s pocket.  He puts a number into Yoosung’s phone. “Call them, ask for Van, tell them Luciel’s calling in his favor.  They’ll come over and cut the footage, leave out the recorders, let Zen speculate about the fog.  We’ll- we release this episode like nothing happened and then we’ll talk to them but I, I need to see V.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“It’s not clear whether these spirits were watching and waiting the entire time or if we disturbed something, during the course of our investigation” Zen walks outside the crumbling cement steps of the building they’d spent the evening in, the sun is high in the sky and his signature white Jacket is a stark contrast against the mossy stone. “The only thing that  _ is _ clear is that there is  _ something  _ here,” he continues.

V can’t hear the rest over her clapping and cheering. “Liars,” she squeals with glee, “oh, they’re lying and they don’t even know!”

She’s pleased, but he’s not sure if he should feel relieved or not.  She’s planned something but he’s not certain it’s happened the way she meant for it too.  He can’t see much anymore and what he does he wishes he couldn’t.  He’d given her his eyes willingly and he’d been aware that he would get  _ something _ in return but she’d lied.  Twisted the truth to get her way.

He’d have never agreed to give himself so completely to her if he’d known what she really wanted.

Glancing towards the sound of her giggles and clapping he tries to remember the woman he’d fallen in love with, soft blond hair flowing about her shoulders, those sharp green eyes made for seeing more than most.  He doesn’t want to see this, he’d prefer the soft gaussian blur of everyday unremarkable people to what he sees when he looks at her, or anyone she’s brought into this place.

Her hair is a greasy sort of light and her face is drawn, pale and stretched, not kissed by sunlight like it should be, her eyes are empty pits, a sick green ember glowing in the depths, her mouth is darkness, a sucking pit and he can see the small balls of energy that are pulled helpless into her like a spiritual black hole.

“Where’s my pet?” She coos. “Where’s my sweet boy?  He did so well, have you seen my pet?”

She stands and glides across the room, the form he sees doesn’t have feet, her image stops at the hem of the dark robe she wears and she floats across the room leaning in doorways and calling out sweetly.

V doesn’t want to see him either.  She’s not calling for the good one, the soft quiet boy who glows softly and never looks up from his hands.  She wants the monster, claws and horns and sharp teeth.  The vicious smile, the black pits for eyes. V doesn’t want to see either of them, he can’t look, and he’s so weak right now, after last night, and then that phone call from Luciel.

He can’t help her but if she asks he knows he can’t refuse, he can’t take the beating and she will not let him die.

He’d tried.  More than once he’s tried to die but she drags him back and every time she does he’s a little  _ less _ him and she’s farther from who she was.  He gave up, one day there won’t be anything left of him to bring back, she’ll have finally run him dry.  He’s glad that when that day comes he’ll be dead, he doesn’t even mind that he’ll probably be in hell as long as he doesn’t have to watch her anymore.

*

“Are you sure, V are you sure, I-”

“Luciel I’ve told you all I  _ can _ .” V’s voice is weak, strained, it undermines his attempted force when he speaks. “You are the one who insisted that it be this way.”

“I  _ know _ ,” he snaps. “It’s just work, they,  _ you _ know what the church is like and I’ve seen him, I think he moved close to us.”

“What do you mea-” He’s interrupted by a coughing fit and Seven sighs.  He knows he’s the only person who speaks to V on the phone anymore, knows he’s the only person he sees.  Not even Jumin has seen V since he returned.  Not even Jumin, the only other person who knows V is back, sees V anymore.

Seven gives him a minute to catch his breath, listens to him wheeze, “I haven’t talked to him, he looks different I don’t think Yoosung or anyone will recognize him on the street but we both know,” he trails off.

“You think the Church knows he’s physically closer to you so they would-”

“ _ Intervene _ ,” Seven finishes. 

“Luciel I can’t, I’m not sure what you’re asking me.” V sighs and once that sound would have come with him pressing his thumbs to the bridge of his nose but Seven hasn’t seen any of his friend’s familiar mannerisms.  

There’s two men in his mind called V now.  The one that saved him and Saeran, the one that wore a cassock and bought them ice cream and took their photo.  Who laughed when Jumin said things that would insult anyone else.  The one he owes two lives to.  Then there was this V, too thin, always suffering from some ailment Seven couldn’t place.  Secretive, hiding, wounded.  Seven still trusts him, but it’s the way you trust a stray dog.  Since whatever had happened with Rika, V seemed more a puppet than a person. 

“I just,” he inhales, he can feel his urge to vomit like earlier rise and swallows it down, he presses a rough palm to his eyes and pushes a little too hard. “I saw him yesterday when we were packing the van but,” he’s in the middle of the sidewalk, he’s trying to keep from being overheard trying to be inconspicuous but he’s had to stop and the foot traffic moving wide around him is making him obvious.  Still he can’t will his feet to move.

He shouldn’t tell V exactly what happened.

He can’t.  Something in his gut says not to.

“Just, Luciel what’s wrong?”

“It won’t be on the show,” he says softly, deciding on a lie that ringed true, “it was unclear and the others didn’t think, it was background really but-”

“Spit it out Luciel.” V snaps.  He sounds exhausted but he  _ never _ snaps at Seven, always endless patience for the manic way words could spill out of his mouth.  

Two thoughts pass him in tandem, V is in trouble and V is involved.  He resolves that his lie was the best choice in this situation. “We had some background interference on an EVP that I cleaned up, but you know me, can’t just leave a thing.”

V chuckles.

“It, I don’t know it sounded like him.”

“I think you’re mistaken.

“I’m not.”

“You’ve seen him, Luciel, you know he’s not dead.”

“I saw him 15 hours before the EVP was recorded, it sounded so much like him that Yoosung could tell something was wrong, V.”

“I saw him this morning Luciel,” there’s something lacking when V speaks, “he’s alive.”

Seven shrugs, and it’s as though someone releases the pause button, his feet begin to move again, his anxiety is not so much lessened as refocused and he begins to make small talk.  Not that there is much to discuss anymore.  

Jumin hasn’t mentioned it but Seven knows that aside from him their producer is the only one who knows that V’s eyes are failing, have been since that night before Rika took off.  He wonders if Jumin is aware of just how unwell V is now.  

Small talk used to consist of whatever new miracle V had been photographing for the church, a promise of some small keepsake, a photo taken especially for him.  Then Rika had come into their lives and something had gone  _ wrong _ with the church. Still V had traveled and while the topics of his photos had changed the conversations had stayed the same.  

Now it was all the new restrictions V had placed on himself.  The last photo he’d taken, the new lense he bought hoping it would compensate for his vision, the new style he was trying, how spectacularly they’d failed. Luciel asking after doctors, V chuckling and comparing him to Jumin.

Goodbyes are said with the sound of voices and Seven wonders if V is still  _ working _ , he knew V could read braille and he knew V had continued to do work for the church. preliminary investigations, so they could decide if it was worth it to send a real investigator.  He’d once suggested that letting them believe that a statue bled seemed better for the church than what V helped them to do.

He’d been told to stick to exorcisms.

“There you are,” Yoosung whisper squeals standing outside the restaurant where they always celebrate the end of an investigation.  Seven had said business as usual in his text but it had hardly been that when he’s stumbled out of the studio in Yoosung’s hoodie.

“You got ahold of Van?” He asks, smile wide, but Yoosung can see there’s no sparkle to his eye.  Whatever V had told him had either been not enough or not comforting.  Maybe V hadn’t answered.

“Mmyep,” Yoosung nods, “is everything, did you-”

“I told you not to worry about  it.” His facade cracks a little.

It makes Yoosung both proud and sad that he’s the only person who can really see Seven’s feelings.  “So this Vanderwood person,” Yoosung tries to change the subject.

“They’re a peach right?  Did they get the footage edited together?  Didn’t give you too much shit right?”  Seven throws an arm around him but doesn’t move to go inside.

“I don’t think they’re your biggest fan,” Yoosung frowns.

“It’s an act,” Seven chuckles. “If they really felt that way they’d have told you to fuck off.”  Seven’s fingers drum along Yoosung’s shoulder for a moment, his arm tightening slightly when Yoosung moves to go inside. “I-Is everyone here?” 

Yoosung nods.  Seven has changed clothes, and he’s walked the 15 minutes here from their apartment.

“Anyone order or did Mr. CEO give a lecture on manners?”  His smile is genuine this time.

“Yep,” Yoosung chirps, relaxing, “just like always.”

“And it’s uploading now?” Seven says, head cocked? “Van is better than I thought.”

“I helped,” Yoosung says, unable to mute the proud smile on his face, “and Jumin sent Jahee to help too.”

“So, did everyone meet Vanderwood then?” Seven shifts, his arm feels heavy across Yoosung’s shoulders for a moment.

“Uh, yeah I guess, everyone stopped in at some point to check on us so- why, did I make them uncomfortable?  I-I didn’t think, I-”

“Oh no,” Seven chuckles, “I’ll just take some shit at work, don’t worry about it.”

There’s something about the way Seven says work that always rubs Yoosung wrong.  He doesn’t ever say what he does, or for who and Vanderwood hadn’t been any help.  Anytime Yoosung tried to turn small talk towards his best friend Vanderwood had ignored him.  Point blank, as though he hadn’t even spoken.

Seven glances around, “Boss man picked everyone up in the Van?”

“Y-yeah?” Yoosung stammers caught off guard.

“Perfect, gather the gang Scoob, we’re going on a field trip.”

He watches Yoosung disappear into the restaurant and saunters up to the van where he can see Jumin’s driver still sitting behind the wheel eating a home packed meal and reading.  He leans against the door and smiles.

“Mr. Choi.”

“Mr. Kim.” Seven tips an invisible hat and the older man smiles. “You remember a few weeks ago when you were admiring my baby?” 

Seven watches the older man carefully close his book and pack his meal away before he turns to him eyes sparkling.  Seven asks him for a ride back to his apartment and makes the deal.  Driver Kim can take her for a spin and leave her at Jumin’s penthouse.  He’ll get his keys from security when they’re done.

Everyone is outside when he gets back, Jumin’s frown almost a glare when he notices Seven driving the van. He leans out the window as he stops in front of them and mimes pulling an airbrake as he honks the horn.  Seven locks the door when Jumin attempts to sit in the passenger seat, likely out of a need to feel in control, and clucks his tongue. “No way Boss Baby, as my second in command that honor goes to Yoosung Kim.”

Jumin makes no comment as he steps back and seats himself with the rest of them in the back of the van.  The drive is quiet, everyone knows  _ something _ is happening, he’s well aware that he’s going to have to sit down before the day is over and explain parts of this. He absolutely hates the idea of having this conversation without all the details.  Hates that there are pieces missing, or out of order and he can’t quite grasp what he’s looking at.

Zen makes a startled sound of recognition when they get out of the Van but no one else seems to know, except maybe Jumin.  Seven wonders if Jumin knows why they’re here.  If he’s at least put that much together.  He wonders how much Jumin knows about everything.  How many secrets V kept from his best friend.

Yoosung follows at the back of the line.  This place is familiar in some way, he thinks maybe he’d been here with Rika once or twice but he’s not sure he’s been inside.  It’s dark and they follow Seven through a long corridor and up a flight of stairs, the sound of music, of some Opera or something Yoosung would never recognize in a million years gets louder. 

As they near a lit doorway Yoosung notices Seven slip off his shoes and socks.  He gets stuck behind everyone else taking off their shoes, and he can’t see through the mass of bodies exactly what is inside the room.  Besides the loud classical music.

By the time he’s in the room Seven has shed his jacket, there’s a pretty girl close to his height standing at the barre watching him with an amused smile on her face while he stretches and acts like there isn’t a very confused audience pressed against the wall.

“Yungie,” She smiles at him and he acts like he’s only just noticed her.  Bowing theatrically before he approaches the little music system.

“So I guess,” she glances at the lot of them, her eyes linger on Yoosung, and she nods at Jumin with a slight smirk, “the gang’s all here.  You don’t usually like an audience.”

“We’re not doing that today Sari,” he says, and Yoosung is almost positive that this is the first time he’s ever seen Seven blush.

“You’re breaking my heart Yung,” she coos and he changes the music.

Yoosung watches her nod, her long braid falling over her shoulder.  She steps up to meet him and they start with what Yoosung recognizes as a boxstep, that’s the only thing her recognizes as it shifts into something more intricate.  Seven is stiff at first but he loosens up, he’s amateurish in comparison to her but still Zen is slapping at his arm and hissing something.  

Yoosung can’t hear him though.

He doesn’t really care to, he’s too busy watching Seven, he’s basically a prop for the girl dancing. Jaehee and Zen are whispering, probably surprised that Seven is in shape.  Most people were, with his terrible diet and his tendency towards sedentary hobbies but his job is physical.  That’s the only thing Yoosung knows about it.

Zen is slapping him on the arm again as the song winds to it’s finish, the dancer is lifted, pitches into the air and is caught by Seven, she slides around his body as if he’s simply a tool.  Then the song is over and she’s slapping at his chest, smiling and laughing.  She runs her fingers into his hair and tugs it back before peppering his face with little kisses.

For his part Seven mostly stands there blushing.

They all jump when another door at the back of the room slams open. “Oh,” a man in a knit hat and mask grunts.  

Sari let’s Seven go and moves to the back of the room. “Do you need something Ray?”

“No,” he says, there’s something possessive about his posture when she steps near him.  The way he touches her elbow, the way his eyes flick between the group of them and her. “I didn’t realize there were, that you had visitors.”

“I appreciate that you were concerned but I’m fine.  Shouldn’t you have left?” She doesn’t seem uncomfortable, Yoosung thinks if it were him he might be.

“You were still here,” he says and his voice is suddenly small.  He looks nervously over her shoulder at Seven who smiles and flicks his fingers in a small wave.

“I have a key Ray, I was waiting for my friends.  Don’t worry, you should go home, I’m leaving in a minute.” She fixes his hat and smiles at him while rolling her eyes before watching him leave,  “He means well,” she says when she turns back, “but I think he has a crush on me.”

“Well who wouldn’t,” Seven chuckles. She rolls her eyes again, “Gang this is Sari and she’s going to join our team.”

“She is?” Zen coughs.

“I am?” Sari says with a raised eyebrow.

“Luciel,” Jumin says with the hint of a smirk. “Did you forget to ask Ms. Bak how she felt about this?”

“I didn’t forget, she just wants to watch me squirm,” Seven smirks pulling his jacket back on. “Which I am always happy to do.”

“You said you needed a reading,” Sari frowns and pulls a big loose sweater over her leggings and leotard.

“I said  _ first  _ I needed a reading, and  _ you _ said we should see each other more often,” Seven throws an arm around her shoulder and presses a kiss to her temple. “Oh oh!” He chirps jumping away, “is  _ Ray _ coming back, should I be more careful.”

“Be nice,” she laughs shoving him. “Did you want to do this here or do you want to go to Moms?”

“Oh Mom’s is an option?”

“She asks about you, you know.”

Yoosung feels like he’s encroaching on something personal watching the two of them.  She’d called him Yungie a name he’d never heard Seven use in the 4 years they’d been roommates. Yoosung had never heard him mention her before.  Jumin even seemed to know her.

“Why does she call you Yungie?” He whispers to Seven when they’re putting their shoes on.

“Knows my real name,” Seven shrugs. “I’ve known her a long time, are you jealous Yoosung?”

“N-no,” Yoosung blushes.  He was though, he hated that there was a person who might know Seven better than him.

Sari watches Saeyoung and the blond boy with their heads together, she’s pretty sure his name was Yoosung.  She watches the show when she can but she’s been very busy, it’s not as often as she’d like.  She smiles at Jumin from the doorway and waits.

“You seem to be doing quite well for yourself despite everything Ms. Bak,” Jumin says straightening his sleeves and closing the distance between them.

“Well there was the compensation from the church, and Mom was smart with the money from the shop, plus you and I both know how far a little attention to the gods can go.”

“You still attribute success to the supernatural then?” He says with a raised eyebrow.

“You still think it’s just a silly game, even with the shit they pull up?”

“I think there’s a science to it,” Jumin shrugs. “I would hesitate to call it magic.”

“It’s comforting to know you don’t change,” she smiles and tweaks his nose.

He scrunches his face, shakes his head, and shrugs. “It would seem you have not changed much yourself.”

“Yoosung get’s the front seat,” Saeyoung announces as they descend the stairs, “Sari, you know Jumin, and that’s his assistant Jaehee, they will protect you from Zen and his masculine charms.”

“I think I can handle him,” Sari smirks.

“I have no idea what he means,” Zen shrugs, “I don’t think I need to be handled.”

“My 3472 tripter followers beg to differ,” Saeyoung laughs.

“Someone needs to handle,  _ you _ ,” Zen grouses.

“I’ve got that covered,” Sari shrugs, ducking into the van.

The crowd is quiet and Saeyoung laughs nervously.

“Where’s Mom today,” Saeyoung asks when she unlocks the shop door.

“She was with the Jewelry this morning,” Sari says slipping through a set of beaded curtain, “but you know Mom, if she’s not there check the cards, or maybe the herbs.” The lights come on and the little occult shop hums to life.  

“Found her,” Seven chirps.  He walks towards the front of the shop with a Silver urn cradled in his arms and sets it next to the cash register. 

“Where did she get to?” Sari asks emerging from the beads with her hair loose and her sweater traded for a gauzy tunic.

“Oh you know Mom,” he laughs, “She must have known I was coming, she was in the back with the hanged man.”

“T-the what?” Yoosung stammers trying to catch up.

“Are you,” Zen says quietly before finding his voice, “that’s a dead person.”

“Honestly Hyun,” Jumin snorts, “given the source of your income this hardly seems like an issue.”

Sari laughs. “Mom blessed the urn herself just before the cancer really took hold, she’s never where I leave her and” she looks at Saeyoung, “she’s been throwing that card at me for a week so I think  _ you _ are late.”

“She did always know me better than I did,” he smiles fondly.

“If you mean she saw your bullshit a mile away,” Sari chuckles, her hand resting on the urn.

“How do you know Seven?” Yoosung asks when he can’t stand it anymore.

“We were in the system together,” Sari shrugs.  

“Lived upstairs,” Seven smiles, for a year or so before V sorted me out.

“Then Mom adopted me, and you moved into the convent and life got  _ boring _ ,” she whines.

“She missed me,” he snickers.

“Then you sauntered the fuck back into my life,” she laughs, “and I haven’t missed you since.”

“She’s in love with me,” he stage whispers.

“Hopelessly,” she groans.  There’s a subtle earnesty to her words that makes Yoosung stiffen. “How do you want to do this, you want to spill your guts before or after I tell you what I got back there?”

“Good news or bad news?” He asks, his face serious.

“I don’t know what you’re looking for Yungie, I don’t think I have anything helpful.”

“What is going on?” Zen groans leaning on the counter.

“Ms. Bak is a talented medium and psychic,” Jaehee says.

“She was also a member of Rika’s coven,” Jumin adds, “and if I remember correctly Ms. Park mentored with Rika.”

“I did,” Sari says, guarded for the first time since they’d all stepped into the little community center studio, “I  _ was _ but,” her eyes flit to Seven begging for something.

“I guess if you don’t think you have a read then I should just, sit everyone down and spill my nasty guts,” Seven says and his hand slams down on the glass counter rattling the crystals and focus objects inside.  

It undermines the lightness of his tone but Sari gives him a thankful nod.

“Is Ms.Bak aware of the events from two years ago?” Jaehee asks, eyebrow raised.

“I think,” Sari glances around, “I think I might be more in the loop than most of you but I don’t think I know everything.”

“So,” Seven starts and Yoosung inhales. “It wasn’t really anything, we had like one static camera and V used to walk around with an old 35mm. We’d hit up anywhere that looked creepy armed with gopro’s and cheap recorders, Rika being a medium and Yoosung was like a magnet with how easy he scared and I dunno, I thought we were having fun you know?”

“Yungie,” She says it with a warning.  Like she doesn’t believe him or she doesn’t approve of him lying and Yoosung bites his lip at the look Seven gives her.

“Ok, ok fine.  Rika started doing research and we found this  _ place _ and I don’t know exactly what it was, we didn’t really have the same tech back then, a few gadgets you know?  A couple things I made.  And there was a cold spot, and a I think a portal and then our walkies went nuts, and the whole place lifted and slammed back down, and something was,” he stops and takes off his glasses, rubs the bridge of his nose. “It’s stupid to talk about it we don’t know what happened,” he growls.

“Rika was, she wasn’t ok, and V was, his eyes were, you know?” Yoosung stammers. “It was like the other night but it was, it was worse, and different and-”

“The point is it was the same but different and I was hoping Sari might have insight but I guess she doesn’t.”

Sari shrugs. “It was the same as always, maybe if we tried something else.”

Yoosung doesn’t like the way she says  _ something else _ but Seven shrugs. 

“If you don’t know who’s to -”

Sari holds up a hand and looks behind them, her eyes narrow and she shakes her head. “Slow down I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

Zen frowns but Jumin’s hand is over his mouth before he can speak.  Seven taps Yoosung on the arm.  He nods and follows, palming a recorder and flicking the button.

“That’s not news, no one knows what they have him doing,” Sari sighs and shakes her head.

Seven taps a cabinet and the door pops open.  He makes a small startled noise, “Sari where’s my camera?”

“Mom hates it, it’s upstai-Mom!” She frowns rolls her eyes, “She says to tell you to fuck off with your bullshit and talk to her like she knows you can.”

Seven rolls his eyes and steps up to a stool near the herbs, leaning forward.  Yoosung sees him shiver slightly, can see the hairs at the nape of his neck prickle.  Sari shakes her head and Seven mumbles into the space in front of him. The lights in the room dim, something rustle’s Seven’s hair and then everything is normal and Sari is shrugging. “Yeah Mom, sure, just give him a hug, fuck me right?”

Seven snorts, “I was always the favorite.”

“That’s because you’re a big baby,” she whines.

“Listen, I don’t know what happened that night,” Seven shrugs, head still inclined slightly towards the stool. “I can show you the footage we have, and I have suspicions but I fucking hate running on a maybe.”

“What did Mom say, Yungie,” Sari says.  It’s less of a question and more of a command.

He groans. “I  _ think _ Rika did something,” he says quietly.

Everyone starts to talk at once but Yoosung keeps his mouth shut.  He could argue that it wasn’t in his cousin’s character to call on anything like what they’d experienced that night but he knew himself it was not like her to just disappear, just like he knew suicide was out of character but all those things had happened.  So Yoosung Kim stands still in the center of the chaos with the recorder in his hand.

His ears pop when the lights go out.

“I’m  _ sorry _ ,” Seven is shouting when they come back on.  He’s holding onto a shelf of herbs and Sari is standing protectively between him and the rest of them.

“We’re leaving Mom,” She says quietly, tugging Seven’s sleeve and tilting her head towards Yoosung. “You asked him to do that, I don’t know what you expected.”

The recorder in his hand hums and Yoosung doesn’t think before he clicks it off and rewinds.  He hits play out of habit.

“ _ -re’s my camera?”  _ Seven’s voice from moments earlier asks.

_ “You little shit _ ,” clear as day a woman’s voice comes through over the sound of Sari’s response _ , “just talk to me like you used to do.  I know you can hear me Saeyoung Choi _ .”

It’s one of the clearest EVPs he’s ever heard.  Jumin, Jaehee and Zen all stare at him.

“You were--”

“Seven told me to,” Yoosung starts but the lights flicker and Sari is tapping on the glass of the door, pointing at the Van.

She holds Yoosung by his sleeve as he walks past her. “He said to let you sit up front but please, I hope you don’t mind if I do.”

“N-no,” Yoosung starts.

“Do you know what his secret is?” She asks him, her eyes scanning his face for any sign of lies.

Yoosung snorts and shrugs, “Which one?”

She smirks. “Ah, so you don’t know what he does for the church either, anything they don’t know that you do?”

He chews his lip for a minute. “His brother,” he starts.

“What about Saeran, is that what this is about?  Did something happen to him?”

Yoosung groans, of course this pretty girl who knew his best friend’s real name knew about his secret brother. “He doesn’t think so,” Yoosung says carefully, “but we have EVP from last night that he says are his brother’s voice.”

Sari growls low under her breath. “He’s sure  _ nothing _ happened to his brother?”

“He talked to V,” Sari frowns and Yoosung continues, “ and I guess  _ he _ said his brother is fine.”

Sari rolls her eyes and Yoosung smirks, at least of she also knew V she felt the same as he did about the secretive older man. “What about that night?  How much do you know?”

“I was,” he inhales, he can feel the tears threatening but he blinks them back, “I was there, it was,  _ god _ it was awful but I don’t really- I mean some of last night was, we didn’t have the same tech you know?  It’s-”

“Yeah ok, but  _ you _ think it was right?” She asks.

He nods.

“And Yungie says it isn’t?” She smirks.

He nods again.

“Ok, I think I can deal with this.”


	3. Chapter 3

Yoosung can’t hear what they’re talking about in the front of the van.  Not with everyone talking about the EVP he’d just recorded. The quiet debates between Jumin and Zen about the little bit of information Seven had given them.  The occasional sarcastic comment Sari throws back at them is no help.

By the time they’re parked in the garage under Jumin’s building Yoosung is fairly certain that despite her jovial over the shoulder comments she’s been scolding Seven.  He watches his best friend’s reflections in the mirror, the twitch to his eye and the way he occasionally purses his lips. Yoosung hadn’t seen Seven behave like that since before he’d dropped out of University.

Seven doesn’t even remind her when they get into his car.  Sari flips the seat of the two door car forward and waits for Yoosung to get in the back.  He watches her slip her shoes off and stretch her legs out onto the dash of Seven’s car and he watches Seven not even flinch, not even scold her.   Yoosung had set a sandwich there once and listened to a ten minute lecture.

He huffs out a breath and leans his forehead against the glass.  There was no reason to be jealous of this woman just because she’d known Seven longer than him.  There was no reason to be jealous of her at all, he insists to himself as he starts to doze off. It’s been a long day, that’s all this was.  He’s been up for almost 22 hours now, it’s exhaustion messing with his head.

“I’m going with you then,” he hears Sari says under her breath.

“You know you can’t,” Seven says.

“Fuck that, I dropped out of the program, it’s not like I can’t guess what you do,” she growls.  “Van likes me more than you, they’ll look the other way.”

“You don’t know that, Sari things are not like you remember.”

“You think I’m underestimating anything you do with the church?  Like I forget what happened to Saeran and Jisu?”

“I’m not saying that, it’s just-”

“Who’s Jisu?” Yoosung yawns.

The car is parked at their building.  He wonders how long they’d been sitting there arguing while he slept.  He can see Seven making a point of not looking at him as Sari shifts to see Yoosung better. “She was my sister, she died.”

“Fine,” Seven mumbles opening his door, “tag along when I go to work tomorrow but you owe me ok?”

“When do I not?” She smiles pushing her seat forward and offering a hand to Yoosung.

“Are you staying here?” He asks, a sinking realization settling in his stomach. Not that Seven had never brought anyone back to their place.  It happened on occasion, but Yoosung had never had to see them before. Never had a name or a face, just the soft murmer of voices on the other side of the wall.

“For a few days probably,” Seven shrugs.

“Is that ok?” Sari asks hooking her arm through Yoosung’s.

“I uh,” he wants to say no, he knows it’s stupid, he knows it would be weird, that if he said no he’d have to admit he was jealous. “It’s fine.”

“Thanks Cutie,” she says pressing a kiss to his cheek.

They all pretend they didn’t hear him squeak.

Yoosung goes directly to the shower when they get in the apartment.  He has a class in the morning and he’s still wearing the clothing he’d worn to the lockdown an entire day ago.  He’s dead on his feet standing under the stream of hot water. He washes the dust, plaster and cobwebs out of his hair and lets his eyes drift shut.  

There’s no reason not to like Sari, she’s pretty, she’s nice, and Seven seems to care a good deal for her.  Whatever it was that was triggering this reaction he decides he needs to get past it. Sari could tell him so much about his friend. Not just Seven but she’d known Rika, been a part of her coven and studied under her.  He could learn so much from Sari and maybe she would be willing to try to contact his cousin.

Though he hadn’t missed the way she’d tensed when Rika had been brought up, they obviously had not parted on good terms.

Yoosung steps out of the shower into their cool apartment, he wraps a towel around his hair and another around his waist.  He expects the soft sound of muffled voices when he passes Seven’s door, giggles and sighs he’ll pretend he doesn’t hear. Instead the door is still wide open and the room is silent.  

Sari smiles at him, face illuminated by the glow of her phone.  Seven’s head is cradled in her lap and her fingers card through his hair in a way that reminds Yoosung of Jumin and his cat.  Seven had always had the enviable ability to fall asleep whenever and wherever he was. Sari holds out a hand and gestures for him to wait and then carefully extracts herself from Seven.  

He makes a noise but she whispers something into his mess of red hair as she lays his head on a pillow and backs towards Yoosung, softly shutting the door behind her. She gestures for him to follow her to the kitchen.

“I know you need to get some sleep too,” she says quietly.  She reaches without looking into the cupboard and pulls out a glass.

“Have you been here before?” He asks.

She fills it with water from the tap and shrugs, “A few times, if you’re home for the holidays and he’s not working.”

“Was he hiding you from me?” Yoosung frowns.

Sari lets out on sharp bark of laughter before she slaps her hands over her mouth to stifle the rest shaking her head. “Oh god no, the opposite I’m pretty sure.”

“Why would he hide  _ me _ from  _ you _ ?”

A look he can’t read crosses her features and then she shakes her head slightly, “I know too much.”

“About him?” Yoosung says, excited slightly.

“About everything,” she shrugs. “Him, Rika, V, what happened two years ago, the church,” she gestures  around the apartment. “Nothing is sacred.”

Yoosung rolls his eyes.  The woman in front of him shared a certain something with his best friend, mischievousness and humor that hid something, pushed it down and away from the surface.

“Anyway,” she shifts and chugs the water in her hand, “I’ve got kind of a weird question.”

Yoosung raises his eyebrows.

“Can I sleep with you?”

“W-what?”

She smirks, “Like in your bed?”

“In my-what? Why?”  Yoosung can feel his cheeks heat up and he’s suddenly very aware that he’s only wearing a towel.

“It’s just,” he’s relieved to see her blushing too, “you’re room is blessed?  It’s the only quiet room in the apartment, he made sure of that when you moved in.  Even if you come home with an attachment it can’t bother you in there.”

“What about the couch?” He asks and then shakes his head, “I don’t mean to be rude-”

“No it’s ok, you don’t know me, I know it’s weird.  Stuff follows him home. It probably doesn’t bother you that much but everything in here knows I can see it.  You’d think the church would cleanse him before they send him home but god who cares right? He’s a throw away.”  

“What?”

“Nothing, nevermind.” She groans. “It’s no big deal, I’m going to sit with him a while longer and I’ll cleanse the place tomorrow but I thought it couldn’t hurt to ask if I could sneak in for a nap in a bit. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“N-No,” Yoosung says shaking his head, “I didn’t, I’m not.  I was just surprised. It’s uh,” he shrugs and tries to will the heat out of his cheeks, “it’s ok,” he nods. “You can sleep in my room if you want, I have to get up early though, I have to be on the farm in the morning.”

“Thanks Yoosung,” she smiles. “I owe you one, hopefully-” she trails off, “that thing you want to know? I’ll look into it tomorrow ok?”

“Hmm, the what?”

She smirks and presses a quick kiss to his cheek, “Don’t worry about it.”

*

“You think he’s cute,” Seven mumbles as she pulls him back into her lap.  

“So do you,” she says with a soft laugh as her fingers comb through his hair.

He shifts a little, wraps his arms around her, his fingers press into her thighs absently and he doesn’t speak again. He drifts back off into sleep while she continues to play with his hair.  She watches the little girl at the edge of the bed, head rested on folded elbows, not looking at her, just at him.

She’d washed out of the program because to  _ not _ see them anymore seemed like losing a part of herself.  Had stuck around long enough to get what she needed out of it, an education and a few connections and then she’d hopped in the passenger side of V’s car. Let him take her to that community centre basement where suddenly it wasn’t about discarding parts of herself to repent for her sister’s  _ failure _ .  

Saeran had lived, the church may have convinced Saeyoung that together they were a  _ risk _ but he was smart enough to know nothing  _ he _ did would affect his soul.  Jisu had died. Sari had been listening to the dead for longer than she had memories and she knew if she saw her sister here then she wasn’t going back to some group home in hell.  

Sari thinks a group home in hell was probably a better place than anywhere they’d lived as kids.

“What are you telling him?” She says softly.

Orange eyes shift to her, perpetually 12 years old and sullen.  She shrugs and goes back to watching Saeyoung.

“She said you think Yoosung is cute, and you’re going to sleep in his room tonight like you always do,” he yawns.

“You’re supposed to be asleep.”  

The church wanted everything to be monstrous, and Saeyoung was selling his life to that lie, knew it was a lie, but his life for his brother’s.  Maybe if Jisu had lived she’d have done the same.

“He’s good Sari,” he mumbles into her hip, “he’s really good ok, be careful with him.”

*

It’s still dark when his alarm goes off.  He has to take a bus to the school catch a ride with one of his classmates since Seven has to work today.  Will probably shuffle out of bed the moment the door closes behind Yoosung and text him something stupid. 

_ You’re butt looks good in scrubs have you been doing squats _ .  One of his friends from class had sat next to him on the bus as he’d opened the text and caught it over his shoulder.  Had asked him if he finally had a girlfriend. Saeyoung could embarrass him from any distance.

Yoosung moves to swing his legs out of bed but something catches.  His shirt tugs tight against his throat and he becomes suddenly aware of a soft sound behind him.  He shuffles back a little tugs on his tshirt. 

It takes him a minute, just laying there staring over his shoulder as his mind screams  _ there’s a girl in my bed _ at him before he remembers last night.  Sari’s strange request. He hadn’t even heard her come in the room.  He tugs his shirt out of her hand. She’s not exactly close to him, but her arm is stretched out and her fingers twisted in his shirt.

She pulls her arm back, tucks her hand under her cheek, her eyes don’t open but as he slips out of the bed he hears her mumble, “I made coffee.”

He squeaks out something that’s almost a thank you but she doesn’t move except to sink deeper into his blankets.

He can smell the coffee as soon as he opens the door and he yawns as he shuffles into the kitchen.  Yoosung is always prepared if a little lazy, his bag is packed with his work clothes already. A few months ago he’d realized if he changed when he got there he could sleep an extra 30 minutes.

He pours a coffee and mixes in what Zen called an  _ ungodly _ amount of sugar, and milk because they were out of creamer.  He hugs the mug between his hands and makes his way yawning to the bathroom.  Sips at it while he combs his hair and clips it out of his face. He washes his face, chugs the last of the coffee and brushes his teeth.

Sari is leaning against the counter with a mug in her hand when he comes around the corner.  She’s staring down and looks to him like she’d just been speaking. He can tell by the way she shifts her weight that she knows he’s there but her eyes follow something and he feels a familiar tug at his t-shirt.

“You can see it?” He asks.

“Hmm,” her head tilts and she shifts her eyes from the space beside him to his face, “it?  Oh, yeah I can see her, she’s always here, she’s not-” she trails off for a moment, sips from the mug in her hand. “I’m careful, she doesn’t have anywhere to go, he has kind of a collection.”

“A collection?”

“You know what he’s like,” she waves a hand dismissively, “always bringing home strays.”  She laughs but it’s cut short when she notices his face. 

He didn’t know what she meant.  “You mean like attachments?” He starts to pulls his shoes and coat together.

“You really have no clue what he does huh?” She looks amused but she’s not looking at him anymore.  Her hand flexes and he can see the fabric of the sweater she’s wearing twitch as she lifts her arms in a way that reminds him of when his little cousins surround him.

He shakes his head. 

“Kids,” she shrugs, “like their spirits?  He’s worried about-” she trails off. “Just,” she shrugs, “he lets the kids follow him home.”

“Ghost kids?” Yoosung asks, pulling his coat on.

“Yeah,” Sari smiles. “You know the toys he keeps on his desk?  They all have a spirit attached.”

“O-oh,” Yoosung manages, pulling his shoes on.  He wishes he didn’t have to leave, that he could drive himself, that he could stay and let her tell him about his friend even if they only have 15 minutes before Seven wakes up.  “One of them is pretty old,” he adds curiously, pretending he can’t find his keys, or wallet.

Her mouth twitches, a sad forced smile. “Mmm, that’s who’s following you around this morning.  She’s teasing me,” her brow knits together as she looks behind him and curls her lip, shakes her head.

He wishes he had time.  She was right, there was always things in their apartment. Spirits, attachments, sometimes nastier things.  He always ignores them, asserts that this is his space and in in extreme situations they’d sage and bless their home.  He couldn’t argue though, there was always this spirit, as long as he’d known Seven. Familiar and following them.

The alarm on his phone sounds and he sighs, shakes his head.  No time to ask any thing else, if he doesn’t leave now he’ll miss his bus.

*

He frowns, watches Sari with her chin hooked over Vanderwood’s shoulder.  Her head tilted, her eyes sparkling. Vanderwood smiles, actually smiles a real fucking smile like Sari isn’t making the same shitty brand of jokes that he does.  He watches Van shake their head, and push Sari off. 

They shoot him a warning look that tells him he’s lucky Van likes Sari, it says  _ you should have washed out I’d rather be her keeper _ .  Seven rolls his eyes and lays on the horn.  He’s met with 4 middle fingers and Sari’s high pitched laugh.

“What a nice day,” she coos, dropping into the seat beside him. “I bet it’s always really nice when they bring you in and it’s just  _ you know _ , not a thing?”  

He laughs, “That you’re professional opinion?”

She produces a few cards with a flick of her wrist.  He knows how the trick works, had taught it to her when he was still allowed to do those things. “The tower,” she snorts dropping it into the cupholder between them. “The Moon  _ reversed _ , Nine of swords, Temperance  _ reversed _ ,” she chuckles. “So yeah, professional opinion.”

He rolls his eyes, “Don’t let Van see those, not if they’re Ma’s.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m well aware that the church will burn everything I love,” he knows if he glances over at her she’ll be looking at him, eyes narrowed on that place low the left side of his ribcage where they’d branded him.

She’s sullen, that’s mostly why he hated when she tagged along.  She always ended up sad. It’s why they don’t spend too much time together.  So much sadness in their history, group homes, Jisu and Saeran and the church.  No amount of bad movies, or jokes could keep it from coming up eventually.

“You’re going to ask her aren’t you,” he says quietly.  They’ve stopped at the shop, still not speaking to one another.  He’d watched her chat, all smiles and laughs, with the girl behind the counter while she gathered supplies for their afternoon.  

She frowns at him as she closes the trunk. “I’m surprised you haven’t.”

“I don’t need to, Sari,” he insists.

“Yeah,  _ you _ don’t.  You’ve got your reasons to think  _ whatever  _ you think but if she  _ is _ dead why not just prove it to him?”

“Sari you know why.”

“Is it  _ hope _ ?” She snorts.

Saeyoung grits his teeth as he starts the car.

“Yungie,” she says softly, her hand a comforting weight on his thigh, “you didn’t ask her because you think she’s dead,  _ right? _ ”

He swallows.

“ _ Saeyoung _ ,” she growls, “if you  _ don’t _ think she’s dead,” he tries to stop her with a look and she pauses for a moment. “I can not help you if I don’t know what you think is going on.

*

Giggling, someone is giggling on the other side of the door to his apartment.  Yoosung had spent most of his day shoulder deep inside a number of pregnant cows.  He’d been pooped on. There were not enough showers in the world right now. 

Except he can hear them giggling, which means they’re in the main apartment and Yoosung doesn’t want to catch his best friend having  _ sex _ .  Not today.  He yawns, checks his phone, and rattles the door knob.  Locks and unlocks the deadbolt a few times, hopes if they’re doing anything they don’t want him to see that it’s enough to get their attention.

He opens the door slowly.

Sari is sitting on Seven’s lap.  They both wave over their shoulders without looking at him and Yoosung recognizes the streaming menu on Seven’s laptop, the microphone sitting in front of them.  “Good timing Yoosungie,” Seven calls.

“What’s going on?”

“Just doing a stream to talk about the show the other night, introducing Sari to the fans, you know, the usual,” Seven chuckles.

“How was the farm Yoosung?” Sari smiles at him over the top of Seven’s head.

Yoosung groans. 

Sari reaches her arms out and he doesn’t think about it.  Doesn’t consider that he’s known this girl for a day he toes off his shoes, stumbling over his feet in his haste and takes big steps across the room and into her arms.  Seven’s head trapped between her chest and his belly.

“I’m in heaven guys,” Seven laughs, muffled by the two bodies on either side of him.

Yoosung pulls away and Sari shoves Seven.  The chair they're sitting on wobbles and Sari squeals.  

“Are the other’s coming?” he asks pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“This is preshow,” Seven says, “Jaehee is going to just join the chat, Zen says he’s gonna try to hit the chat on his way back from his audition and Jumin is at the farm for the next two days.”

“Can I shower?” Yoosung asks.

Seven nods, “The stream starts in 15 minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with all my mysme stuff I'm updating anything I can with an apology, this is probably the last update for this fic.
> 
> I've unfortunately lost interest in MysMe and lost the thread on all my IPs.
> 
> Apologies.
> 
> If you want to talk about this fic or where I was planning to go with it hit me up on twitter @chaoticjackass


End file.
